The Cost of Waste at Wular

From the shore, a fisherman reveals how waste is changing fish, birds, and the valley itself.

- A.R. Matahanji

I found Gul Kak sitting beside his boat on the muddy edge of Wular Lake. His nets lay open in front of him. He looked down at his catch with a tired face that carried both anger and grief.

His family has fished these waters for generations. The lake fed them and shaped their lives.

Today, that same lake is struggling under plastic and silt, slowly turning hostile to those who depend on it.

“Look at this, Beta,” he said, lifting part of the net.

A small fish lay trapped inside a tangle of plastic bags, torn sheets, and bottle caps. It gasped and twisted, fighting for life inside waste that did not belong there.

“Plastic is everywhere now,” Gul Kak said. “It sinks, floats, blocks boat engines, and kills the weeds where fish lay eggs. Many days I spend more time cleaning my nets than fishing.”

From a distance, Wular Lake still looks calm. Mountains and clouds reflect on its surface. That picture fades the moment you step closer.

Near the shore, thick patches of plastic drift with the water. Waste spreads far into the lake, forming floating sheets that move with the current.